


Everyone's Kind on Yulemas

by FelixQuill



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Lemon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelixQuill/pseuds/FelixQuill
Summary: Both men are left alone after the Yulemas ball. When they wind up together in a deserted hallway of the palace, how will the Crown Prince and the Captain of the Guard who has yearned for him for years spend their Yulemas night?Set between chapters 39 and 40 of Throne of Glass, just after the Yulemas ball.
Relationships: Dorian Havilliard/Chaol Westfall
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	1. Drawn Together

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one is mostly build-up, and the second chapter is more of a pwp scenario, so skip there if you desire!  
> This is my first fic in years, and (cliche, I know), I love any and all feedback.  
> I haven't finished the series, and I have only read Throne of Glass twice, so apologies if anything here contradicts something about either character that was established in later books (or that I just forgot).

A warm breeze tussled Chaol’s hair as the stars shone their flickering lights over the gardens. Time had passed, a good half hour, since Celaena had retreated from her balcony and given herself over to the embrace of sleep, but Chaol had no urge to return to his lonely quarters and get his own rest. The Yulemas ball had filled his head with colours – and the wine he had consumed did not put any of his whirling thoughts to rest. 

She had a deep fondness for Dorian, that much he knew. But was it love? She knew who she was, and she knew who Dorian was – more importantly, she knew who Dorian was meant to be. A man to marry for the future of his country, his empire, not one who could take up an assassin in matrimony in front of an entire continent. No one knew the prince better than Chaol – and as far as Chaol knew, no one thought about the prince as much as he. 

Maybe it stemmed from his duties as Captain of the Guard, and his prerogative to protect Dorian’s life with whatever it takes, but Chaol knew his protectiveness of the prince was more than that. For years Chaol had known that he was attracted to males and females, and while his sexual experiences with either gender was lacking, he often found his eyes lingering for a second too long on the wide array of muscular male bodies in the living quarters of the Guard. For anyone to find out would spell ridicule, reprimand, and the possibility of worse – with the disappearance of magic from the Erilea years ago, attitudes towards sexual fluidity had turned towards the traditional, and deviance was regarded as behaviour befitting the fey or other outlawed magical creatures. He had always enjoyed the few girls he had taken to his bed, and that was enough for him. Except tonight the only woman he could think of was Celaena.

Frustrated, he picked himself up from the garden bench he had been perched on and strode back into the hallways of the stone castle. He knew he should be vigilant, with a mysterious killer that could appear at any moment possibly loose in the castle, but tiredness, resentment, and the remnants of wine from the ball let him drop his guard, just a little. His path to his quarters took him right past Celaena’s room and he picked up his pace as he passed her guards, giving them a mere passing gesture as a greeting. As he rounded a corner, his heart jumped slightly as he beheld a figure in front of him, the sputtering lights of the torches on the wall barely giving enough brightness to identify the man. Until he turned his head, and Chaol instantly recognised the mask that Dorian had been wearing to the ball still covering the eyes of the Crown Prince. 

“You shouldn’t be out here. You should know better than anybody.” Chaol’s tone was firm, but through his tiredness, he lacked the conviction he would usually possess.

“I know,” Dorian muttered. “It’s just one of those nights.”

“I would expect you to be too tired to still be out. Or have you been reinvigorated by a visit to a young woman’s chambers?” Chaol cursed in his head at how playful his voice sounded.

“Yulemas night is the perfect time for… such indulgences,” Dorian quipped nonchalantly. “But I’m afraid I’m not feeling as free as I have in the past.”

“I remember last year. They all seemed to enjoy themselves.”

Dorian gave a slight laugh that ended with a sigh. “I always make sure of it.” 

The pair stood in silence for a few moments. As far as Chaol knew, Dorian had not been with a single girl since the assassin had arrived. And neither had he. He suspected that like himself, Dorian could not deign to give himself to any other woman while such an enigmatic, dangerous, and beautiful young assassin slept in the walls of the castle. Chaol took a moment to look at his friend. His tunic, which shone so brightly in the lights of the ball, bathed him in a complex array of folds and shadows in the flickering torchlight. The silvery fabric was unbuttoned more than he would ever dare to wear it in court, and Chaol could not help admiring the smoothness of his friend’s chest, and the muscles he knew lay just under the garment. Years ago, he had told himself that he would quell any thoughts like that before they could blossom into anything more, but tonight was Yulemas, and his guard was slipping. 

Chaol broke the silence. “You seemed to give a lot of them the cold shoulder tonight. Many people have reason to be jealous of the Lady Lillian.” 

“Then many people will be.”

There was a brief pause

“You visited her, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here this late.”

Dorian looked up at Chaol’s eyes, and gave a quick, silent nod.

“But you didn’t…” 

“No,” Dorian interjected, a little too fast for his liking. “Not that I wouldn’t… that I wouldn’t want to…” His eyes flittered to the ground

“It’s fine. It’s just my job to keep you safe.” Chaol moved next to his friend and sat down on the cool stones next to him, leaning his head back against the cool wall. 

“We kissed. But that’s all. She wanted to be alone.”

Chaol didn’t know what to say. As Captain of the Guard, he knew such a dalliance between the deadliest assassin in Adarlan and the next-in-line to the throne was a pairing that should be avoided at all costs. As Dorian’s best friend, he felt a pang of pity in his chest. But as a man who had spent the evening staring up at the balcony of Celaena Sardothien, he felt relieved that nothing more had passed between them.

“Do you? Want to be alone?” Chaol finally asked. 

“I…” Dorian put his hands to his face and rubbed them slowly across his cheeks. “I’ve never wanted someone more. And it’s been months since I’ve been with anyone. I think I’m just frustrated. A lot of stuff just… pent up.”

“I know what you mean,” said Chaol, and he instantly wished he had said something else. While Dorian’s exploits were known all over the castle, Chaol rarely discussed his own feelings with anyone, even his childhood friend. And he knew why. Even talking about his sexual urges around Dorian pushed the thought of taking the prince himself to bed right to the forefront of his mind. He looked at Dorian’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Dorian only chuckled. “Been a while, then?”

“Yes. With everything that’s been going on…”

“Tonight is Yulemas, Chaol. You can forget all those worries and think of yourself for a change,” interrupted Dorian, as he locked eyes with Chaol. The Captain of the Guard looked away, and thanked the stars that the blush rising in his cheeks would be concealed by the ever-lengthening dark. His mind flashed to the ball, and Dorian’s casual ‘you look radiant too, Chaol,’ played in his mind over and over.

“Myself?”

“You need to let yourself go sometimes. You’ve been especially tense recently.” 

Let himself go. By the Wyrd, that was what he wanted to do more than anything. He looked back at Dorian, who was still watching him. 

“I can’t. There’s too much happening, and…”

“How about right now?”

Chaol froze. Could Dorian be saying what he thought – no, what he hoped he was saying?

“N-now?” Chaol’s voice stuttered on the word.

“It’s Yulemas. I can’t go be with a woman, I’d spend the whole time wishing… but you, I’ve always thought that… I mean, you’re just…” his voice trailed off.

“I’m what?” Chaol’s tired mind was struggling to process this turn of events. 

“Always there for me.”

Chaol turned to Dorian again, gazing into his deep eyes. Against his better judgement, he pulled himself up onto his knees and put his hand on the prince’s shoulder, gently moving to cup the base of his neck. 

“Dorian, I’ll always be there for you. And, I think you should know, I’ve always thought you were a beautiful man.” The words came flowing from somewhere inside him, and he let them fall. “And I’ve always wanted to do this.”

Before he could stop himself, Chaol brought his lips to Dorian’s. He knew they were rough from the wind outside, but he didn’t care as he felt Dorian’s own face rise up to meet his. Dorian’s hand snaked behind Chaol’s head and gently gripped his hair as the prince went deeper, deeper into his friend’s embrace. Chaol pulled back for a second and looked at Dorian’s face, dreading an expression of disgust. He saw only a smile, and eyes that looked alive for the first time since he had left the ball. 

“No. Keep going.”

“Not here. The patrol could come any time.” Chaol had doubled the guards in the wake of the murders, and he knew this passageway was on one of the rotations.

“Come with me.”

Dorian rose, and he grabbed Chaol’s hand as he did, pulling him up to his feet. In the soft light of the wall-mounted torches, the Crown Prince and the Captain of the Guard moved silently through the castle.


	2. Yulemas Night

They flew through the castle, making sure they took paths where the guards would not be patrolling, until they reached Dorian’s chambers. There were no guards outside, and once both men were inside the antechamber, Chaol was pressed against the wall and as the kiss they had started in the hallways continued. 

It wasn’t like kissing a woman. In Chaol’s experience, at least, the kissing had been gentle, with less passion and more restraint. This was rougher, and Chaol gasped as the kiss moved waves of arousal through his body to his swelling crotch. Dorian broke the kiss and went for the buttons of Chaol’s tunic, his dextrous fingers undoing the catches and opening up the linen covering Chaol’s chest. Dorian moved his mouth further down, sucking on the neck and exploring the Captain of the Guard’s collarbone with his tongue. Chaol took advantage of his free arms to shrug off his tunic, letting it fall around his boots. Dorian looked up at Chaol and smiled, as he moved his attentions across Chaol’s chest, lightly touching the scars marking his body from years of combat training, and then gave his full attention to Chaol’s left nipple. A combination of good food and hard training had resulted in Chaol’s torso being a sight to behold, enough to make any girl in the palace jealous of the Crown Prince’s exploratory actions if they had known.

Biting back a gasp, Chaol reached for Dorian’s head, grabbing onto the prince’s soft hair at the nape of his neck, before moving his fingers softly and delicately through the silken waves. His experience with combat had taught him how to use force, but also given him a delicacy with his touch that he relished as he stroked the prince’s hair.   
Dorian stood, his fingers moving quickly through the remaining buttons on his own tunic before casting it to the floor where it sat upon Chaol’s. Like his older friend, Dorian’s princely figure was the envy of many a Rifthold lad, a fact which Chaol’s hungry eyes took in like a horse at a pool in the desert. The two men smiled at each other, before Dorian took Chaol’s hand and led him to the bedchamber.   
They didn’t need to talk as Chaol pressed Dorian onto the bed, feeling the power of taking control fuelling the throbbing erection inside his trousers. Aching to release it, he reached for the laces that held his remaining clothes in place.

“No. Let me.” 

Dorian smiled wickedly as he unlaced Chaol’s trousers and pulled them to the floor. It had been years since either of them had seen the other completely naked, but Chaol felt no shame with his whole body on display for the prince. Noticing the large bulge in Dorian’s own trousers, Chaol reached for the prince’s laces, making quick work of uniting both garments in a pile on the floor. Chaol couldn’t help but admire Dorian’s cock – while his own was definitely an endowment to be proud of, Dorian Havilliard’s penis was even larger. He wasted no time in bringing his mouth to the tip, rolling back the foreskin to expose the sensitive head underneath. He had never done this before, but his experience in receiving gave him an indication as to how to use his tongue to extract the most cries of pleasure from the Crown Prince. And he was a fast learner.

As Chaol’s mouth worked Dorian’s cock, he began to explore further with his mouth, taking in more of the length and using his hand to stroke the shaft that was still exposed. Dorian’s moans of pleasure made him want to continue, continue his sexual exploration, but something brought Chaol back up as he tumbled over Dorian and lay down next to him, bringing Dorian’s lips back to his own for another kiss. This time, Dorian’s hand reached out to stroke Chaol’s cock as their tongues explored deeper, deeper. Each stroke of Dorian’s hand sent another shudder through Chaol’s body, and it was all Chaol could do to keep from biting down on Dorian’s lips. 

Dorian soon broke the kiss off as he rose to his knees, pivoting around to move his mouth between Chaol’s legs. Chaol’s fists grabbed onto the throws covering the prince’s bed as Dorian moved him closer and closer to his culminating moment. For years Chaol had heard gossip of Dorian’s sexual prowess, but to experience it first-hand was another thing entirely. After the evening, the week, the month that he had had, he had thought bliss on this level to be unobtainable. He was wrong. 

Dorian pulled away from Chaol’s cock as both men rose to their knees on the bed. In a second, they were in an embrace once more, kissing wordlessly and exploring the other’s body with their hands, moving up and down, up and down, to areas both familiar and strange. Chaol felt a shudder inside him, as he extracted himself from the kiss to fall backwards onto the bed.   
“I’m so close,” Chaol moaned, as Dorian moved his body to cover his friend’s.

“So am I”. 

Dorian’s mouth moved once again to take in Chaol’s cock. The prince’s hands, mouth and tongue found their pattern and moved with rhythmic motions to bring Chaol closer and closer to climax. With a final passionate movement, Chaol was pushed over the edge into the best orgasm he had had in months. Waves of pleasure rippled through his body, each pulse making his body rise and fall on the bed and filling his mind with nothing but the thought of Dorian. The prince kept sucking as Chaol came, taking in every drop Chaol had to offer, before moving to lie parallel to the Captain. 

“Now me.”

Chaol was exhausted, but there was no level of tiredness that would keep him from giving Dorian his own sexual release. He pulled himself to his knees and started his tongue over Dorian’s exposed cockhead. With his hands, he reached up to once again cradle Dorian’s neck, and he was rewarded with moans of pleasure from the prince. He increased his pace, moving his mouth and his hands in a rhythm just like the one that Dorian had shown earlier. It took only a few moments before he heard Dorian gasp, and hot waves of liquid exploded into his mouth. He had never tasted a man’s cum before, but he took it all, waiting until Dorian was still once more before released his cock. 

The two friends lay on the bed, panting. Dorian reached his hand over to Chaol’s chest, and Chaol grasped it, holding it to his breast as they lay there in the torchlight, breathing in synchronicity. Minutes passed before Dorian finally arose and reached for the pitcher of water infused with wildberries on a table across from the bed. He poured a cup and brought it to Chaol.   
“Here. Drink. You deserve it.” 

Chaol hungrily reached for the glass, only just realising how thirsty he was. The cool water and berry sweetness washed some of the taste of Dorian away, but he felt better as he had drained the glass. He handed it back to Dorian and the prince poured himself a glass.

“That was… Better than I could have thought,” Chaol gushed, falling backwards once again onto the bed.

“It was. And you’d never done it with another man before?”

“Never. I’ve always known I’ve wanted to, though. With men, with… with you.”

Dorian smiled. “So have I, Chaol. So have I.”

Tiredness was once again beginning to wash over Chaol. “I should go. It’s late.”

“Stay. It’s been years since I’ve been alone on Yulemas night.” Dorian looked almost bashful as he placed his glass down and moved to the bed to join his friend. He pulled back the covers and crawled under. “Come on in.”

Chaol obliged, dimming the remaining torches and lying down to face the prince. Dorian drew him in for another kiss, and Chaol relished every second of the proximity of his body to the prince’s. 

“Thank you. For letting me stay.”

“Chaol. You can stay here whenever you like.”

A gentle rain pattered on the windows as sleep eventually came for both men, each of them gently moving into the realm of dreams in the other’s embrace.


End file.
